Now GrayA Poem by JRWhen he was young they sat in the dirt by the side of the lake and he played her songs he’d written on guitar primarily in the key of A he wrote poems to her, he dreamed she would read them and see through he dyed his hair red and he shouted into the mic he drove too fast and he chucked bottles into empty fields wore wallet chains and new tattoos the night owned his eyes; He still writes songs but ballads became dirges mostly in the key of E he still writes her poems but collected in books he no longer reads his hair has been cut to a stubble, and the beard now hides those old creased cheeks he drives too fast, he’s hoping the turns will claim their own he’s buried bottles on his hill, filled with grape seeds and vodka once gold, now gray he feels the weight of his age and the uselessness of his breath the night still owns his eyes. © 2020 JR |
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Added on March 17, 2020 Last Updated on March 17, 2020 AuthorJRPlacerville, CAAboutWriting again Interesting times to be living in, kind of a cool time to be a writer and documenting the world. more..Writing
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